Je Suis Prêt
by Ambrosia2
Summary: Our tears mingled together as we held each other, each contemplating the thin line Hermione was balancing between lfe and death. I could only pray she wouldn't fall.


Je Suis Prêt  
  
Disclaimer-I do not own Harry Potter, or any of the characters. I am simply an artist who can't accept what she sees, or reads in this example, and has to try for herself, and see if she can do better.  
  
Feedback-Please sir, I want some more.  
  
Pairings-Ron/Hermione  
  
Summery-Ron tells the reader his story about a romance and tragedy with Hermione.  
  
A/N-Please Review! Tell me what you think. I'm definitely not making any money off of this, so your thoughts are very much appreciated. Do you like it? Do you hate it? Was it a terrible idea? Should I write more like this? Did you like it being from Ron's POV? Please review. I'm begging you.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ My story is one that you would often hear in an old blues song. The kind sang slowly under hot lights in a dark room surrounded by people giving you sympathetic looks as you poured your heart out. My story does not have a happy ending, it is not some fairy tale, and as you can see, it didn't start out once upon a time.  
  
My story begins late one night 4 years ago; in a place I thought I would never see her. But there she was, standing under a street lamp, looking around fearfully. My precious Hermione. I wanted to go right up to her and comfort her, but my curiosity got the better of me.  
  
I stood in the shadows, hoping my tell-tale red hair would not be seen glinting in the neon light from the corner store behind me. Luckily, she never turned around. I watched quietly as a man in a black cloak came up from behind her and whispered something into her ear. She seemed to shiver and took an object handed to her. All I could see was the glint of something silver for a brief second, until she hastily hid it in her robes.  
  
The man disappeared as quickly as he came, and I decided to go see what had happened to her. She seemed surprised to see me here, looking almost fearfully at me, tears forming in her eyes. I put a comforting hand on her arm and she seemed to break down right then. She collapsed onto me, hugging me tightly, asking me never to let go. "Why would I let go? "I asked her. She never answered.  
  
Now it all makes perfect sense to me, but at the time I was confused about the entire situation and only wanted to make her stop crying, to get her to smile that wonderful smile I loved so much  
  
I don't think she ever realized how much I loved her before that night. I don't think she saw us as anything but friends. But that night she didn't need a friend, she needed someone to hold her, and kiss away her tears, and tell her everything would be alright. I was more than happy to oblige.  
  
We aparated to my apartment so that we could talk privately and she could explain to me the events that had unraveled under that street light. With every word she spoke to me more tears seemed to spill from her deep amber eyes. All I could do was hold her in my arms protectively, whispering into her ear that everything would be alright.  
  
She tore away from me when I said that, looking angrier than I had ever seen her. She pulled her sleeve up and thrust her arm out to me, revealing the dark mark burnt onto her arm. I shuddered.  
  
"Do you really think that everything will be alright Ron?! The war is coming! Everyone thinks I'm a traitor. Even Voldemort! Do you know what that man said to me Ron?! Do you? He told me that the Dark Lord was going to kill me! Not only kill me, but torture me, and make me watch him kill my family!"  
  
I shivered, having no idea what to say to her. What could you say to someone walking a thin line between life and death? But she wasn't finished. Not hardly.  
  
"That's not all Ron"She said, choking on tears as she spoke. She pulled out the object the man had given her. A knife. "Do you know what this is for? This is the only solution. That's what he told me. You've never seen Voldemort torture someone before, have you? The pain he causes is so great that killing myself is the best and only thing to do." Her voice faltered. "Ron, I've barely lived. I can't kill myself, thinking that there might be another way. What am I supposed to do?"  
  
I took the knife from her hand gently, looking at her solemnly. I felt something wet on my hand and looked down. I hadn't realized I had started crying. Her tears mingled with my own as we held each other, my face resting in her hair, my arms laced around her, rubbing her back and rocking her back and forth like a small child.  
  
I held her at arms length, looking deep into her eyes. "Hermione, listen to me. You cannot kill yourself. That is not the thing to do. I know how terrified you must be. I think that you should hide. You should go with your family, and stay as far away from Voldemort as possible. Do you understand? Hermione, I'm not going to lose you. I love you"  
  
She looked at me with uncertainty, and then kissed me with more passion I would have ever felt possible. Her hot tears fell onto my face as I tried to pull her closer. I couldn't let her die. They would never be able to keep her away from me. Never. I stroked her hair and pulled away from her, both of us looking a little shocked at our actions. She smiled sheepishly, the first smile I had seen from her in a long time. This was the Hermione I knew. The one I loved.  
  
During our long and painful conversation we had been sitting on the floor. She lowered herself onto her elbows, her long legs lying straight beneath her. Like a magnet I inched closer to her, not able to resist the force that pulled me closer to her lips. I kissed her again, this time tenderly, gently, slowly, cherishing our time together that seemed so limited. She accepted me willingly, parting her lips and sending chills of pleasure down my spine. She tasted warm and inviting, like sweet vanilla.  
  
She lay down, her eyes looking at me with a passion I had never seen before. I pulled her arms above her head, leaving her lips and kissing her neck. She shivered, a smile on her lips. Her eyes were closed, trying to use all of her senses.  
  
Our last night together was beautiful, but when I woke up the next morning she was gone. All she left me with was a simple note with two words. I don't even know what she meant by it. Maybe she meant death, or life, or love, or pain. I'll never now. I'll only have memories of that night with her and those two words.  
  
I'm ready...  
  
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A/N- Well, what do you think? Please don't be mad at me for writing a tragedy! If you would like me to write a happier story, or one with a different pairing (I've done several pairing and am open to pretty much anything that's a challenge, [or not ^_^]) you can tell me so in the review I'm sorely hoping you'll leave, and I'll dedicate it to you! Please press the button below! 


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